


Joanie and Johnny

by VampyrycPineapple



Category: Elementary (TV), Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Crack, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-27
Updated: 2013-05-27
Packaged: 2017-12-13 04:24:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/819946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VampyrycPineapple/pseuds/VampyrycPineapple
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Or rather, Joan and John Watson are cousins and both Sherlocks wish they knew that from the start.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Joanie and Johnny

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wdya.tumblr.com](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=wdya.tumblr.com).



> Happy late birthday Apple! (wdya.tumblr.com)

i.

Another successful case that was unwillingly thrust upon her solved, Joan Watson settled in for the night with a cup of tea and her tablet.

“My father has requested my presence for an award ceremony where he is to be given the very prestigious title of Philanthropist of the Year.”

Joan looked up at Sherlock who was standing on the threshold of her room from where she was researching a new medical theory her friend had mentioned to her, something by a Mr. Doyle, on her bed. She took in his tapping finger and vaguely nervous demeanor (which meant that he must be extremely anxious) and arched an eyebrow.

“Well I _could_ use a vacation.”

ii.

“Now that this mess is finally over with, I need to leave a bit early Lestrade- I’m meeting someone for drinks.”

Lestrade nodded at John when one of the interns entered the room and handed the detective inspector a piece of paper. The older man read it over, frowning as his eyes traveled down the sheet.  “Looks like I have to go too, something about a bar fight with an American.” he sighed, “I hate having to deal with international affairs.”

Lestrade glanced at the intern who brought him the paper, “Now, where’d they put the guy?” and followed the girl out of the room and down the left hallway.

Sherlock gave John a look once over, noting his nicer than usual clothing and said, “She must be pretty, you don’t usually dress up this much for your dates.”

John just shook his head and strode rapidly out the door.

iii.

“I cannot believe you just did that! That was a perfectly nice party and you just had to go tell that guy that his wife was cheating on him in one of the empty rooms!”

“What was I supposed to do? Not tell him and have his wife make it into a full-blown affair?”

“No! I just—you don’t do things like that!”

“Such a clear answer Watson.”

“I’m not the one in handcuffs, now am I?”

“I can assure you that it is now the first time, nor is it going to be the last time I have been put through this inconvenience.”

“I can’t believe you, Sherlock. You better hope your father is going to bail you out because I’m not going to.”

“Shame Watson, and for your information he will most likely post bail because it would harm his image not to.”

“…”

“Watson? You aren’t giving me the childish silent treatment thing again because if I must remind you, we are riding in the back of a police car heading for Scotland Yard.”

“…”

iv.

John entered the entrance hall for the Yard and began dodging the various drunken groups, the obviously high teenagers, and the concerned parents that were hovering needlessly over no one as they waited for an officer to bring their child they had just paid bail for back to them.

This was all completely normal, until he noticed a woman in an elegant scarlet dress and heels. The unusual sight didn’t match up with any of the normal profiles for people to be in the hall.  John adjusted his route and began making his way toward her. He slowed down to make sure he got a good look at her, but quickly sped up when until he noticed how familiar she looked.

“Joanie?”

She spun around and stared, “John?”

“Joan, I know for a fact that your flight just landed about five hours ago, why on Earth are you here?”

“Relax Johnny; I haven’t taken up international crime. I’m here for a friend.” She smiled at him, “Why are you here then?”

“Pretty much the same reason. Although I must admit that I thought that this is the last place I would’ve expected to run into you.” He grinned at her, “Do you want to reschedule the drinks ‘til your friend gets out?”

She snorted, “And let his bad choices rule my life? As if, that would just go right up to Sherlock’s head.”

“Sherlock? Like-- Sherlock Holmes? That Sherlock?” John asked, frowning.

She frowned, “Um, yeah. Do you know him?”

“He’s my flat mate, but I didn’t know that he got himself arrested again.” John exhaled, “What did he do this time?”

“How can he be your flat mate? He’s been in New York with me for the past…” Joan stopped and then smirked, “And we’re talking about two completely separate guys aren’t we.”

v.

“I had no idea you could ruin a date with that much efficiency John.” Sherlock said as he peered into his microscope.

John shoved his hands into his coat pockets and walked over, “I thought I’d stick around and see how the thing with the American plays out.”

“Boring.” Sherlock scoffed, adjusting the light on the microscope.

“Did you know that he was only punched because he told minor politician that his wife was cheating on him?”

Sherlock increased the magnification, “Dull.”

“Which he somehow was able to deduce because he had seen the couple earlier and noted how the wife kept trading looks with another man?”

“So the American is more observant than most of the force. I still find the event wholly uninteresting.” Sherlock said, annoyed, “Now bring me the dropper with the blue dye in it.”

John’s mouth twitched upwards while handing him the dropper, “Did you know that said American has been frustrating Lestrade because of his apparent deductive skills? Skills, I must say, from the sound of it, are extremely similar to yours?”

Sherlock paused midway through squeezing a drop, his face betraying a curious combination of suspicion, interest, and mild confusion, “I need to meet this man.” 

vi.

There was a small kerfuffle going on outside the dimly lit interrogation room they had led him to. There was a bang, a shout, and the door banged open hard enough to hit the wall.

“—you really can’t go in there—“                                                                     

Sherlock looked up uninterested at the newcomer _. Black hair, blue eyes, and thought very highly of himself.  Past drug abuse too, well maybe not in the past entirely; what use could he possibly be to the Yard? Surely they couldn’t have let their standards down that much while he was away._ The seated man looked back down and continued to pick the lock on his handcuffs. The newcomer held up a hand to the guard outside the room, really though, it was much closer to a closet than an interrogation room, and shushed him.

The door slammed shut and taller man sat down across the table. “Who are you.” It wasn’t phrased as a question.

“Sherlock Holmes. Now if you would kindly leave, I’m a bit busy here.” Sherlock said, not even bothering to look up.

The darker haired one glared at the other, “Don’t be ridiculous, now what. Is. Your. Name.”

“I just told you.”

“ _I’m_ Sherlock Holmes. Not you, _you’re_ just some pretender.”

“Excuse you?”

“Just because we share some similarities hardly means that we are the same person. Otherwise every druggie out on the streets would be Sherlock Holmes.” The darker haired one said arrogantly.

The handcuffed one rolled his eyes, “I don’t see why you’re so bothered in keeping up this charade. No one else could possibly have been given the name _Sherlock_.”

vii.

“I can’t believe you goaded your Sherlock into meeting my Sherlock.” Joan said, stretching her legs out. Setting her coffee on the side table she began to idly flip through a medical magazine that she picked up from the side table.

“I can’t either; he’s stubborn as a mule, mine.”  John agreed sipping his own coffee, “Is that the new MD Monthly?”

She nodded absently, processed exactly how he worded his last statement, and looked over the magazine at him grinning like the Cheshire cat, “How cute, Johnny’s got himself a boyfriend!” Joan said, dragging out the word.

John lowered his forehead to his palm and groaned, “How many times do I have to say it? We aren’t together!”

“Shh! Or someone is going to notice us talking and then our master plan will be ruined!” She whisper-shouted and resumed reading the article, “John, look at this. There’s this Dr. Conan guy, he’s doing some controversial experiment with pigs and cloning.”

John rolled his eyes at her, “Joanie, we don’t actually _have_ a master plan.” Grabbing the magazine from where she was waving it in his face he skimmed the article and said, “It’d be great but I’m not quite sure if medical technology is advanced enough for that yet. Unless you Americans have something you’re not sharing with the world.”

She glared at him, “Don’t ruin my fun. I’m stuck here all night and _this_ is my entertainment.” She took a mouthful of coffee and swallowed, “Not that I’m aware of. Although considering how long I’ve been out of game, it is certainly possible I’m not entirely up to date with all the new studies.” Breathing the scent of the French vanilla creamer she added, “Thanks for the coffee by the way John. This is why you’re my favorite cousin.”

“Great to know how you rate us. I’ll be sure to tell Harry next time I see her.”

viii.

They were glaring. Neither of the two opposing forces would be the first to hold up a white flag and call a truce. Not even the thought of surrendering to the enemy even crossed their minds as they sat as still as one could while mentally battling each other. You could feel the emotions rising and tensions reaching their breaking points as mental walls tumbled down and piercing eyes advanced on the rival.

“How long have they been staring at each other?”

Lestrade swung around to Donovan and looked at his watch, “Going on half an hour now.”

ix.

“The sheer amount of similarities cannot be coincidental.” The London-based Sherlock stated.

The New York-based Holmes nodded as he continued to handcuff the chair leg to the table leg. “And while this is most amusing, I really do think it would be best for the universe if we were to part ways as soon as possible.”

“You’ve even got a British accent.” The better-dressed Sherlock noted.

“Thank you Captain Obvious, but I live in wonderfully crime-ridden country of America now. Something which seems positively wonderful with this lovely nugget of new information.” The tattooed Holmes looked up in time to see the other’s disgust at the name and beamed at him. “Can we leave the Yard yet?”

The Sherlock that Scotland Yard officers recognized tilted his head, “What do you mean, _we_?”

“Joan. Joan Watson. Joanie to friends and family. She’ll be waiting around in the entrance hall looking exasperated and angry.” The bearded one elaborated.

“You’ve even got yourself a Watson?”

x.

Sherlock (with black hair) and Sherlock (with brown hair) walked to John and Joan.

Joan smiled at Holmes, “Good to see prison didn’t kill you.” She remarked and turned to the Sherlock she was less familiar with and said, “Nice to meet you. I’m Joan and you live with my cousin.” She held out a hand for him to shake and upon not receiving one, scowled at him.

“So blunt Joanie.”

“Be quiet Johnny.”

“And you must be the famous John Watson. _Sherry_ over here has told me all about you.” The scruffy-looking Holmes said looking amused, “Joan, I had no idea you could have an interesting family member. Not after meeting your parents and brother.”

John raised his eyebrows, “He’s met the family, has he now.” His grin promised revenge, “How badly did Uncle Arthur scare him?”

The Sherlock that John was more accustomed with putting up with was silent, eying the two of them, seeing the similar stances, facial structures and body language that practically screamed they both knew and were familiar with each other, “You two are related. Not close enough to be her sibling, although you both have them. She’s clearly not Harry due to the distinct lack of accent. Cousins?”

“Yes, and it only took you _all night long_ to figure that out.” Joan said. She looked at John skeptically and asked directing her head towards the Sherlock with an impressively blank face, “Please tell me I’m not going to have to deal with this at family reunions.”

“Not gay, Joanie.” John muttered under his breath.

The taller Sherlock gave in and glared at Joan, affronted, “I don’t understand why _Locky_ puts up with you. I certainly wouldn’t.”

“Well then it’s a good thing that you’re not the one I live with.” She turned to her Holmes and said “And now that you’re out of the slammer we should go get you cleaned up, you don’t want to know how many germs are typically in a jail cell.” She gently began herding Holmes out the door. Looking back at John and Sherlock she called out across the now empty room, “I’ll see you and Harry on Friday John! And mostly nice to meet you other Sherlock!”

Sherlock and John were left alone.

“Let’s go home.”

* * *

 

+1

“Who’s your friend Watson?” A falsely casual Anderson walked over.

A critical look over and from the absolutely stunning woman and a declaration of, “Absolutely not.”

“Yeah, go away Anderson. She’s far too good for you.” A near-laughter John Watson agreed.

+2

_Forgot to shave, rumpled suit, tie knotted incorrectly. Lack of a woman’s presence. Wedding ring. Married. Affair? She’s cheating, he isn’t. That’s why he’s drinking at the open bar and she’s…_

“Your wife is currently cheating on you in one of the other rooms.” _An odd look, oops, did he say that aloud? Oh well._

The man glanced over, “Excuse me?” _Clueless. Far too trusting to last long in the business game._

“I am perfectly aware you heard me clearly.” _Denial. Does he know his wife’s lover?_

He drinks something amber out of his glass, “I heard someone accuse my absent wife of having an affair. During a party I am currently at.” _Sounds annoyed, like it isn’t the first time he’s heard it._

“Considering that is exactly what she is doing, you most definitely heard me correctly _.” He looks angry, fingers curl up, arm tenses. He’s going to punch.  Worth dodging? Pros: The Yard could be more interesting than here. It’d damage Father’s reputation. Poor guy would learn the truth. Cons? Same reasons._

Slam.

_Oops._

_Too late._

_Ouch._


End file.
